


Locked In

by writetheniteaway



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, haunted hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:20:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27344194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetheniteaway/pseuds/writetheniteaway
Summary: Bellamy and Clarke are co-stars on Ghost Explorers, a paranormal investigation show. When they have to film their Halloween special in the abandoned Mt. Weather Mental Hospital, things get out of hand. Will it really take a demonic entity for them to admit how they feel?
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 15
Kudos: 79
Collections: Non Anonymous TROPED Collection





	Locked In

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Mira for her amazing work as beta for this fic!  
> This was my first attempt at Chopped and while I couldn't get my act together with deadlines, I'm still happy with how this piece came out! 
> 
> CW: Minor Horror/Supernatural Elements
> 
> PLEASE ALSO NOTE that I am participating as a writer for T100Fic for Black Lives Matter. If there is a fic you're simply dying to have written, you can send a prompt in and I would be THRILLED to write for you in exchange for a donation to a cause in support of Black Lives Matter or other supportive organizations, or you can check out any one of our other amazing writers or content creators! Where else can you celebrate the power of fandom, get fic personalized exactly to your hopes and dreams, AND support an imperative social cause?

“Why do they always pick the damn abandoned hospitals on Halloween?” Clarke grumbles over her plate of bacon and eggs. She’s wedged into the corner of the diner booth with Gaia and Monty next to her. 

“Because ableism dressed up as sympathy for the dead sells,” Bellamy commiserates with her from across the table. 

“And because Alie and Jaha know you hate them, and you’re hot when you cry,” Octavia adds matter-of-factly, sandwiched between her brother and her boyfriend Lincoln. Lincoln kicks Octavia under the table which earns him an eye roll in return. 

“Thanks for that,” Clarke says dryly. “Always good to know I’ve got job security as eye candy.” 

“I’m sure the fact that Bellamy’s in love with you helps too,” Jasper chimes in, returning from a thorough examination of the dessert case. Bellamy chokes on his coffee at that, and Monty elbows Jasper in the ribs. 

“Sorry to ask but can you two scooch?” Clarke asks Monty and Gaia, ignoring all of the eyes suddenly on her. “I need to get some air.” The two of them make room for her to bolt. 

At the last second, she remembers to offer to leave some cash but Lincoln waves her off. “You can get me back for dinner.” 

Clarke gives him a small grateful smile before heading for the door. 

“Seriously guys?” Bellamy admonishes all of them. 

“Yeah Jasper, not cool,” Octavia adds.

“Nope O, you’re on my shit list too. You all know damn well she hates when we shoot in hospitals—why rile her up before we even get there?”

“Settle down all of you,” Gaia says coolly. “We need to talk.” The group falls silent. Bellamy, Clarke, and Octavia might have seen their fair share of unexplainable weird, but not one of them doubted that Gaia had  _ something  _ that made her able to connect to the spirits they sought proof of. 

“What is it?” Bellamy asks, all business. 

“This hospital has been in my dreams for months,” Gaia says. “I didn’t recognize it until they sent us the case brief. But then I saw the pictures and it all clicked.” 

“What do you think it means?” Lincoln asks.

“I’m not sure,” she says honestly. “Perhaps only that we were being led here.”

“Or perhaps?” Monty asks.

“Perhaps as a warning,” Gaia says. “No spirits have made themselves known to me individually. But this is a place of great suffering. More so than most.”

“Great,” Jasper says sarcastically. “Super-duper. Just where I want to spend Halloween—the place that our resident psychic says we’re all gonna die.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Octavia scoffs. “That’s not what she said.” 

“I don’t know for sure what any of it means, and I probably won’t until after we arrive,” Gaia continues. “Just be on your guard tonight, it is not the time for skepticism. If your instincts tell you something is wrong, listen.” 

“Let’s save it for the cameras, shall we?” Jaha says earnestly, strolling up to the table. “Are we about ready to head out?”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. Jaha and Alie were the producers of their show,  _ Ghost Explorers _ . They’d sought him and Octavia out when they were gaining a steady following as amateur investigators on YouTube, wanting to capitalize on the sibling angle that hadn’t appeared in any of the other similar shows yet. It rubs him the wrong way that they don’t take the work seriously. Skepticism is how people get in over their heads and get hurt, and Bellamy’s not risking anyone on his team for their bottom line. 

“Don’t tell Clarke,” Bellamy whispers to Octavia. “And make sure the boys keep their mouths shut too.” 

“Are you sure that’s a good call?” Octavia asks him. 

“We don’t know for sure,” Bellamy insists. “No point in freaking her out anymore than she already is.” 

They’d brought Clarke in from one of the top universities in the country, having just dropped out of a prestigious medical program and showing up to a casting call on a whim. She is brilliant and for the most part fearless, but hospitals were a sore spot for her. They all thought it was the reminder of the world she left behind that set her on edge, but she’d confided to Bellamy once, late after a particularly grueling shoot, the truth. 

_ “Sorry I was kind of useless tonight,” Clarke mumbles.  _

_ “Are you ok?” Bellamy asks her, coiling wire as dawn breaks through the windows of the long-abandoned pediatric ward.  _

_ “Fine. Just more tired than usual.” Clarke shrugs, trying to keep it casual. _

_ “You know you can talk to me, right?” he says with a sincerity that is far too intense to simply be between coworkers.  _

_ Clarke sucks in a deep breath. “My dad died in a hospital. No one knows what went wrong. One minute he was joking with the nurse after coming out of a simple procedure, and the next he was coughing up blood. They all forgot I was there. My mom is a surgeon—she was ordering people around and there was blood everywhere and they cut into his throat to try and get him breathing. Then something slipped because he started seizing and I watched him die. They never found out what went wrong. He just died. And I watched it happen.” Clarke wipes furiously at the rogue tears rolling down her cheeks.  _

_ “I’m so sorry, Clarke,” Bellamy said, reaching out tentatively to squeeze her hand.  _

_ “I tried to be like my mom—become a doctor, get comfortable around illness and death. But every time I went to class all I saw was my Dad dying, and a room full of people who couldn’t do anything to save him. It made me sick.”  _

_ “You don’t have to do these shoots if you don’t want to,” Bellamy insists, not letting go of her hand. “Jasper can fill in.” _

_ “It’s all part of the job.” She shrugs it off. “It’s not so bad. The ghosts don’t bleed,” she jokes wryly.  _

*

“Welcome to Mt. Weather,” Alie says enthusiastically as they all pile out of the van. Monty and Jasper get to work unloading their recording devices. “I have your assignments for the walkthroughs. Jasper and Octavia, you’ll be in the recreation room—make sure to get the angle right so you can see the stains on the walls. With the right filter, it will look like blood.” Octavia rolls her eyes while Alie checks her clipboard.

“Gaia, Bellamy, you two will be in the dormitories. See if you can ‘make contact’ with one of the inmates who died there.” Her inflection makes it clear that she’s put air quotes around Gaia’s abilities. 

“Patients, Alie. They were patients, not prisoners.” Gaia bristles. 

“Well, what’s the difference when you go far enough back, right?” Jaha attempts to make a joke, but it’s clear no one finds the slight funny. 

“And Clarke,” Alie clears her throat, “You’ll be flying solo in the lab.” If Clarke is panicked, she’s doing a damn good job of hiding it. 

“What’s the story with the lab?” Monty asks. 

“Apparently the doctor was using the patients for experiments. No anesthesia, invasive procedures, electroshock therapy. The usual,” Alie says indifferently. 

“And who haunts the lab? The doctor or the victims?” Lincoln pushes. 

Alie grins. “They say that the suffering was so horrendous for the victims that it attracted the demonic spirits that took up residence there.” 

“And you want her investigating that solo? Are you insane?” Bellamy snaps. 

“We appreciate your concern Bellamy, but the network has certain expectations for the Halloween special. Clarke is a fan favorite and a professional,” Jaha says decidedly.

“I’ll be fine,” Clarke says flatly. “Let’s get set up while we have the light.” 

*

“Ok, so we’ve got cameras in the rec room, the dorms, and the lab—as well as the hallways leading up to them. You’ve got digital recorders, EVP tech, and thermal hand cameras. I’ll be in the hub out here, so if anything weird happens, radio me and I’ll see what I can see on my end,” Monty briefs them all.

“Lincoln you’ll be on camera one with Jasper and Octavia, the rest of you are on the handhelds,” Alie says. “Remember to set your tripods before you start recording so we get steady footage if you’re going to try and communicate with something.” 

“We’ll leave for our spots in shifts to cut down on noise interference—you three head out. Be careful,” Bellamy says, trying to quash the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Always are big brother,” Octavia says. Jasper heads off with a mock salute. 

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Lincoln says, low for only Bellamy to hear. “You watch out for Clarke,” he adds. Bellamy nods subtly, avoiding the attention of Alie and Jaha.

Alie’s cellphone rings, pulling her away from the group. Gaia in her infinite wisdom pulls Jaha into a conversation, and that leaves Bellamy a moment to check in with Clarke one-on-one. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he tells her. 

“They’ll fire me if I don’t.” Clarke sighs. 

“I won’t let that happen,” he says. Again, with that intensity that has no place in a relationship between strictly platonic coworkers. “I’d threaten to walk too, and so would Octavia.” 

“So I can be the reason you two lose out on your literal dreams?” She looks at him skeptically. “It’s just another day at the office.” She shrugs it off sarcastically.

“Clarke.” he steps toward her instinctually, breaking every careful rule he’s ever set for himself about not letting on that he’s a little—a lot-in love with her. 

Clarke meets his gaze, defiance in her face but her eyes are soft. She reads the fear in his expression. “What is it, Bellamy?” 

“I can’t lose you,” he says reluctantly. 

She looks at him for a long minute, stunned. “I’ll be fine,” she insists, finally. “See you in a few hours.” 

*

Clarke steels herself as she opens the door to the lab, dismissing the sick feeling in her stomach as her mind gets ahead of itself. It’s just a room. Hospitals don’t kill people. Incompetent medical professionals do. There’s a replica display of the turn of the century lab equipment, but the large majority of the room is simply windowless concrete walls. 

She sets her camera on its tripod and double-checks that it’s recording. 

“This is Clarke Griffin in Dr. Tsing’s lab. EVP session one, Mt. Weather Asylum, Halloween.”

She steps back and centers herself in the frame, clutching her recording device in her hand. 

“Are you a victim of Dr. Tsing’s?” Silence answers.

“Did she hurt you?” Still nothing.

“Are you afraid of what she’ll do if you talk to me?”

A chill runs down her spine. 

“Are you afraid of her?” Clarke repeats.

“Oh my God!” Clarke jumps, startled. She can’t be sure, but it  _ felt  _ like someone had just grabbed her forearm. 

*

“So Octavia,” Jasper says, tone teasing as he leans back in a rocking chair, playing up his nonchalance for Lincoln’s rolling camera. “You think why Gaia told us about her dreams is true? Think Dr. Hatch-job’s dirty deeds opened a portal to another world?”

“Demonic spirits or not, people suffered here,” Octavia scolds him, circling her flashlight around the room. “Show some respect.”

“Oh, I don’t kn-What the hell was that?” Jasper jumps up out of the rocking chair, leaving it creaking behind him. 

“What?” Octavia asks, following his line of sight.

“Something just ran across the doorway.”

“I’m taking out the thermal camera.” Octavia flips open the device and aims it at the far wall. 

Lincoln bites his tongue, fighting his instinct to tell her to be careful. 

“Walk over there and see,” she tells Jasper.

“This is the Rec room, right friends?” Jasper asks tauntingly. “So come out and play!”

Octavia gasps as a temperature signature appears feet away from Jasper.

“What?” he asks.

“Someone wants to play.” 

*

“Bellamy and Gaia in the dorms. Mt. Weather, Halloween.” Gaia flips on the camera, then settles herself cross-legged on one of the narrow beds. 

“My name is Bellamy,” he says. “This is my friend Gaia. We don’t want to hurt you, we just wanna talk.” 

“There are spirits here,” Gaia tells him calmly. “Thank you for coming to speak to us,” she says larger, to the room.

“Can you tell us who you are?” Bellamy asks. 

“You don’t need to be afraid of Bellamy,” Gaia says softly, speaking to the space between them. “He is a good man.”

Bellamy holds his breath, goosebumps creeping along his arms. When he films with Gaia, his job is to let her work, and be there if she needs to be broken out of something dangerous. More often than not, he simply holds the recording devices to corroborate what she experiences.

“Our friend is named Maya,” Gaia says. “She was a nurse here.” 

“Can you tell us about this place, about the patients you took care of here?” Bellamy asks, addressing the room at large, spinning his recorder.

Gaia gasps, clutching her stomach. Bellamy’s eyes snap towards her.

“Are you alright?” He asks, stepping forward, but she puts a hand out to stop him. 

“There is evil here.” 

*

“Jasper put your camera on the far wall,” Octavia says in a sharp whisper. “I’m telling you I saw something.”

“If you’re here with us, show us something so we know who you are,” Jasper says forcefully. “Show yourself!”

Octavia reaches her hand out, balancing the recorder in her opposite palm, crouching down as if to speak to a child. “Were you a patient here?”

“There weren’t children here,” Jasper says suddenly and Lincoln’s blood runs cold. 

*

Clarke screams.

*

“Bellamy,” Monty’s voice crackles across the radio. 

“Not now,” Bellamy hisses, ignoring the device. Gaia is praying, palms open on her lap, trying to decipher what sort of entity they’re facing.

“Bellamy!” Monty’s voice cuts through the take again. Bellamy grabs the radio angrily from his hip.

“This better be important Monty, there’s weird shit going on in here-“

“Something grabbed Clarke.” 

Gaia’s eyes dart forward. Bellamy slams the button to reach the rest of the team.

“Clarke, come in,” he waits barely a breath. “Clarke!”

“What happened?” Octavia’s voice replies. 

“Clarke answer me!” Bellamy shouts again. “Where is she? Monty!”

“She’s not in the lab, I don’t have eyes on her.” Fear and rage flash through Bellamy in equal measure. 

“Jaha, where the hell is she?” Bellamy is barreling down the hall, Gaia close on his heels. 

“If you insist on being dramatic at least remember your camera,” Alie says dully. 

“Bellamy, what’s happening?” Octavia demands again. 

“Everything is fine,” Jaha replies. “Go back and finish your take. Try and get the rocking chair to stay moving again—that was a great trick.”

“It’s not a trick you idiot, there’s something here with us!” Octavia shrieks. 

“Clarke!” Bellamy cuts across the radio again, frantic. The corridors are dark and even with his flashlight, he’s getting turned around. “Which way to the lab Monty?”

“I’ll get the camera, Alie,” Gaia says placatingly. “Just wait here and then we can keep searching.”

“Forget the damn take where is she?” Bellamy’s frustration echoes down the hall. 

“She’s here, Bellamy,” Monty says quickly. “She’s outside.” 

Bellamy’s frame deflates, relief flooding him and making him bone-weary. 

Jaha tries to order them back to their posts but Bellamy isn’t having it. “Everyone out. Now.”

*

Clarke’s got her knees curled to her chest, back braced against the wall of Monty’s tech trailer. Monty’s subtly positioning himself between Clarke and Alie, trying his best to be a barrier. 

Bellamy and Gaia nearly collide with Jasper and Octavia, Lincoln barely a step behind despite the heavy camera he carries. They take off at a sprint towards the lights of the trailer. 

“We don’t have time for all of them to stop filming,” Alie mutters. “This is absurd.” 

Bellamy charges into the trailer, sidestepping Alie’s flimsy attempt to slow him down. Monty lets him pass easily, quickly returning to his post as both technology lead and human shield.

“What the hell happened?” Bellamy asks, crouching in front of her, tone harsh. When he sees her face though, he can’t help but immediately soften, reaching tenderly to brush the hair back from her face.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Are you okay?” It’s a stupid question and he knows it as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Can you tell me what happened?” he tries again.

Clarke won’t look at him, and he’s not sure if she’s embarrassed or afraid or both. All he’s honestly sure of is he’d do just about anything to take that look of her face.

“You’re safe now,” he tells her, though he’s sure if he consulted Gaia that may not be strictly true. He’s terrified of what’s happened but he can’t show it—not when she needs him to be strong for her. 

“I couldn’t breathe,” she says finally. “Something grabbed me and I couldn’t breathe.”

“Pull up the recording,” Jasper suggests, sounding slightly too scripted. Bellamy sighs in frustration, of course, Alie and Jaha want to capitalize on Clarke’s fear.

Monty makes a few maneuvers with his mouse and then the recording of Clarke in the lab takes up three full screens. He and Jasper watch in horror as Clarke’s expression flips like a switch from levelheaded calm to sheer terror. Bellamy can’t bear to watch the screen and instead keeps his gaze steadily on her, checking constantly for the slightest hint of furthering distress.

“I can’t go back in there,” she says, her voice almost a plea. 

“You don’t have to,” he says immediately, moving to stand and help her up.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous,” Alie says briskly. “Of course you can.”

“Alie please,” Clarke says, standing though her voice is shaky. “I can’t.”

“Being frightened is part of the job,” Alie says dismissively. 

“I can’t,” Clarke repeats. 

“You’re not going back in there,” Bellamy says firmly. “I’ll do it.”

“As much as heroic sacrifices might sell on Hallmark, this is our Halloween special. If some ‘demon’ in there has taken a liking to Clarke, then that’s what we call a jackpot. We’ll get picked up for three more seasons, guaranteed.” Alie says briskly. 

“I said no,” Bellamy growls. 

“You may be cast as the lead, but this is  _ my  _ show, Mr. Blake. Clarke will do her job.” Alie purses her lips. 

“You may pick the locations and make the travel arrangements, but deciding who investigates where is  _ my responsibility _ .” Bellamy stands firm, staring Alie down. 

“Very well, Clarke, if you don’t want to go back in then you can pack up and make your way home. It’s the season finale anyway, we won’t need you back for next season,” Alie says coyly, ignoring Bellamy entirely. 

“If you fire her Octavia and I walk,” Bellamy snaps. “Our contracts are up this season too.” 

Alie purses her lips, considering for a moment. “Then you walk. Thelonious, remind me to contact Russell and Josephine Lightborne, a father-daughter team should be an exciting reboot don’t you think?”

“I’ll do it,” Clarke says before she can think too hard and change her mind. 

“Like hell-“

“It’s decided,” Clarke cuts him off. “I’ll go back in and finish the take, alright?”

“Excellent, go on then. No time like the present.” Alie says with a sick grin.

Clarke hurries out of the trailer, Bellamy rushing after her.

“Clarke don’t do this,” he pleads. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with!”

“Whatever it is isn’t worth you and Octavia losing your jobs,” Clarke insists. “I’ll be fine.” 

“No, you won’t-“

“It’s one more take. I’ll be ok. Please just let me do this,” she says. “I can’t be the reason it all falls apart.” 

“You’re more important to me than any of this,” Bellamy says before he can stop himself. That gives her pause. 

“I know,” she says finally. “Which is why I can’t let them take it from you.”

*

They break off to their respective posts again. Clarke takes a deep breath before entering the doorway again, tightening her expression to show no fear. 

“Clarke Griffin, Mt. Weather, Dr. Tsing’s lab. Take two. Halloween.” She stands in front of the camera, shivering. 

Monty keeps his focus firmly on Clarke, looking for even the slightest excuse to pull her out of there. 

“You wanted me back here, you got me,” Clarke says, feigning confidence. Ice seeps into her blood. 

The door slams shut.

*

Bellamy and Gaia haven’t even fully set themselves when they hear a heavy door slam. 

“Where the hell did that come from?” Bellamy shouts. 

“Shh,” Gaia demands, trying to listen.

Bellamy’s radio crackles.

“Go, Monty-“

“You need to get to Tsing’s lab. Now.”

*

Clarke’s trying to breathe, but it feels like she’s sucking air through a straw. Her pupils are blown wide, she’s scrambling across the cold cement to find the flashlight she’s dropped on the floor, startled when the door shut behind her. 

Icy air blasts across her shoulder and her stomach drops. She isn’t safe here. Let Alie fire her. She needs to get out. Clarke lungs for the door but it doesn’t give. Nothing should lock automatically—it’s part of the safety checks the crew makes before they’re allowed inside, but the building is old and if it wasn’t ever meant to close.

“Let me out!” she screams, half out of frustration and half in case the spirit might actually be listening.

She reaches for her radio, but the battery light is gone. No, no this can’t be happening. 

Clarke shivers with the sudden sensation of someone standing close behind her. 

“Get away from me!” she says firmly. “Whoever you are, you cannot-“

Something pushes her back against the door.  _ Hard.  _

*

“Who the hell shut this door?” Gaia asks bewilderedly, but Bellamy’s long past caring. Clarke is on the other side of it. He pulls at it—hard.

“Clarke!”

“Bellamy!” The fear in her voice makes his heart drop. He wrenches it again but it won’t budge. He calls her name again but this time there’s no reply. 

“She’s unconscious,” Monty says over the radio in Gaia’s hand.

“Is she near the door?” Bellamy asks.

Monty mutters something incomprehensible but Bellamy only hears “no-“ before kicking the door in.

He rushes to Clarke, crumpled on the floor. Gaia stops short of following him, standing in the center of the room.

“You are not welcome here,” she says firmly. “You will release my friend. You will release us. You will not continue to harm her.”

Bellamy slides to his knees in front of Clarke. “Wake up, Clarke c’mon please,” he says, choked with emotion. 

“Leave my friend, I demand it!” Gaia shouts hand pressed out towards Clarke. “Leave her, now!”

Clarke shudders awake, gasping for air. Bellamy reaches to steady her. 

“Can you stand?” he asks her frantically. 

She looks at him, perplexed. “Bellamy?” she grimaces at the hoarseness in her voice.

“Come on,” he says, pulling her to sit up quickly but with great tenderness. “We have to get out of here.”

“What happened?” she asks, confused.

“You were attacked,” Gaia says shortly. “And we need to go before whatever did it regains its strength and returns.”

“My head hurts,” Clarke replies lamely, brushing her fingers across her temple. Bellamy sees red, and it isn’t only the sight of her blood.

“I’ve got you,” he says, reaching to lift her from the ground and steady her on two feet, not letting her go lest she lose her balance.

“I can walk,” she tries to insist, but one glance at her swaying form is enough to convince him otherwise. 

“Let me help, please,” he says brokenly. 

Clarke loses her footing, clinging tightly to his jacket to stay upright. “Ok,” she says meekly. 

Bellamy lifts her with ease. Clarke hides her face in his chest, probably staining his shirt with blood,but he’s too focused on getting her outside to care. 

*

Jackson, their set medic, aggressively orders Bellamy away from the safety tent. He downs the bottle of water and picks at the protein bar Octavia had tossed at him.

Alie shepherds Lincoln into the medical tent, camera in hand and it takes Jasper, Octavia and Gaia combined to steer Bellamy’s anger in the opposite direction. 

He storms into Monty’s trailer instead, briskly demanding to see the footage from Clarke’s shoot.

“I’m not sure you want to,” Monty warns him. “I’ve never seen anything like it before in my life.”

“Play it,” Bellamy replies hoarsely. He has to see for himself, look the torment he has allowed her to endure square in the face, the beginning of a long and miserable self-imposed penance. 

He never should have let her go back in there, never should have let them send her off alone in the first place. Clarke was his best friend, he loved her for Godsake and even if she didn’t feel the same in return, he would never forgive himself for letting this place hurt her.

Bellamy cringes as an invisible force tosses Clarke’s tiny frame around like a rag doll on the screen, sees the moments she tries to remember her training, and send the vengeful spirit away only to be dragged halfway across the lab instead.

“Bellamy you need to see this,” Monty says quietly, titling a smaller second screen labeled “laboratory hallway” to face him. 

It’s from before the attack; Clarke walking in and setting her camera up, leaving the hall empty.

“What am I looking at?” Bellamy asks.

“Just watch,” Monty says. Sure enough, a few moments later, a figure appears on the screen. Their face is covered and it’s certainly too steady to be a spirit. They reach out to close the door and then retreat just as they came, trapping Clarke inside.

Rage boils inside of him and he storms out of the trailer. “Alie!” 

She turns when she hears her name, but seeing that it’s Bellamy looks away, resuming the conversation on her phone.

“You did this to her!” he snarls. Octavia and Jasper chase after Bellamy, putting themselves physically between him and Alie before the situation can escalate. Bellamy would never dream of attacking a defenseless woman in his right mind—his boss no less, but Clarke is lying in a medical tent half-conscious and Alie is the reason for it. Rational judgment has taken a backseat. 

“Save the dramatics for the camera, Mr. Blake. She had a panic attack and fell. It was an accident,” Alie says indifferently.

“Watch the tape!” he bellows. “She was attacked!”

“You’re seeing what you want to see to prove your hypothesis,” Jaha says in a feeble attempt at diplomacy. “I understand that the paranormal is a passion of yours-“

“You sent her in there alone and locked the door!” Bellamy hisses. Jaha’s face falls.

“Endangering one of our employees is a very serious accusation,” Alie says harshly. 

“We have the tapes,” Monty says sharply, holding them up in his fist. “We know you locked her in.”

“They what?” Gaia asks furiously, turning on Alie and Jaha. “Clarke was physically attacked by a demonic entity and you  _ locked her inside with it _ ?” 

“All of you calm down,” Alie dismisses them. “It’s been a long night and your friend suffered a psychotic break, so I will excuse this  _ disgraceful  _ display of disrespect, and we will see what can be salvaged of this episode.” 

“You’re not using any of this,” Octavia says firmly. “It’s not happening.”

“You’re under contract,” Jaha says. “You have no say in what airs.”

“You can’t just do that to her,” Jasper says.

“Forget it,” Bellamy says suddenly. “Everyone pack up to leave.”

“I would tread carefully Mr. Blake,” Alie threatens.

“You’ll hear from our lawyers this week, we’re done here.”

*

Bellamy takes a moment to calm down, inhaling the crisp cold air before moving into the medical tent.  Clarke is pale, distant—haunted, which Bellamy wishes was an exaggeration, but it's not." 

“Doing okay princess?” he asks her. The silly nickname doesn’t quite have the effect he hoped for.

“It’s not a concussion,” Jackson informs him. “But she’s pretty shaken up,” he says, lower only for Bellamy.

“We’re gonna pack up and get out of here,” Bellamy tells her. She nods but does not move. “Hey,” He takes her hand. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“Sure,” she says, sounding less than convinced. 

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promises assuredly. “No matter what.” 

He may be imagining it, but something in her face relaxes slightly. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

*

They pile into the van, not bothering to collect any of the equipment. Lincoln drives and Octavia is up front with him. Jasper, Monty, and Gaia pile into the back, leaving Bellamy and Clarke in the middle.

“I’m sorry I wrecked the shoot,” Clarke says when they’re miles down the road. 

“Don’t apologize,” Octavia insists. “They used you as fucking bait.” 

“Well, it worked,” Jasper says wryly. “Demon almost ate you for dinner.”

“Mind your tongue,” Gaia chastises him. “It’s no laughing matter.”

“Not that anyone here needs convincing, but it  _ is _ some of the best evidence we’ve ever collected,” Monty says sheepishly. 

“I hope they never air it,” Bellamy says harshly. 

“I’m sure Kane will put a stop to it,” Lincoln says. “That man’s been dying for a reason to bring a claim against Alie’s shady filming practices. And he has a soft spot for Clarke.” 

“This is going to be a whole nightmare,” Clarke groans at the prospect of a long arbitration process. 

“No it’s not,” Bellamy assures her. “We’re going over their heads. Either we get new producers who take this shit seriously, or all of us walk.” 

“No one messes with our family,” Octavia agrees. “Not demons and not deadbeat bosses.” The others chime in with supportive agreement, making some of the guilty nerves in Clarke’s stomach uncoil.

When they arrive at the hotel they all scatter—Lincoln and Octavia head straight to bed while Monty and Jasper convince Gaia to hit up the hotel bar. Clarke folds her arms across her chest. She desperately wants a shower but the idea of being by herself right now is less than appealing, to say the least.

“Come up to mine,” Bellamy says softly, filling in the blanks without drawing more attention to her, and he’s not sure if it’s a good sign or a bad one that his usually prideful princess agrees without protest.

*

Clarke follows behind Bellamy as he unlocks the door, flipping on every light she can find as she goes. 

“You hungry? Bet it’s late enough we could get breakfast room service,” Bellamy says. 

It suddenly occurs to her how ridiculous all of this is. She’s a grown woman, a  _ professional _ . So some weird shit happened, it’s not like they hadn’t all encountered their fair share of crazy. She doesn’t need a knight in shining armor, especially not one she’s already so in love with it hurts. 

“I’m just gonna go shower and head to bed,” she says dismissively, not meeting his eyes.

“Clarke,” he says cautiously. 

“I’m fine.”

“Last time you said that to me a demon tried to kill you. So forgive me if I’m overstepping the boundaries of friendship here but I highly doubt you’re fine.” He reaches out to move her hair behind her ear, exposing the growing bruise on her temple.

“Just stop being so tough and let me take care of you awhile.” His tone puts it somewhere between an order and a request, and somewhere in the back of her mind she wants to be, but the feeling of his hand on her skin warmed her in a way nothing else that evening had. Clarke forgoes her usual boundaries and presses into his chest, winding her arms tight around his waist. He wraps his own across her back, and she relishes the sensation of safety and comfort. 

“Go shower,” he says once she’s finally willing to pull herself away. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

“Hash browns and bacon too. I feel like I’ve got a hangover,” she says wryly. He places a kiss on her forehead, and the tenderness sends an entirely different chill down her spine.

“What was that for?” she asks innocently.

“Just glad you’re safe,” he says, again with that damn sincerity that makes her weak in the knees. 

“You’re a big softy you know that?” She asks, attempting to lighten the moment.

“Only when it comes to you,” he replies, maintaining his intensity for half a second longer. “Go shower, I’ll order food.”

*

Bellamy lays an obscene amount of food out on the end of the bed, figuring if it was their last chance at the network picking up the tab they might as well take advantage. 

Clarke emerges from the bathroom, damp hair pulled back in a braid. He’d loaned her a t-shirt she is swimming in and left a pair of gym shorts as well. He tries to keep the heat from reaching his face when he realizes she’s neglected the shorts altogether.

“We could feed an army.” She laughs at him.

“You’ve got a paranormal hangover, I’m starving, and this might be the last meal the network ever pays for,” he says with a grin, piling food onto a plate and handing it to her.

She tucks her legs under the blanket and balances the dish on her lap. “I really am sorry I ruined the shoot. Maybe if I leave, they’ll let you-“

“Don’t even think about it,” he cuts her off fiercely. “You should be figuring out how to sue them for reckless endangerment.”

“The whole job is reckless endangerment though—it’s not their fault it turned out worse than we thought.” 

Realization dawns on Bellamy. “Clarke they didn’t just make you go alone,” he says carefully. “Alie locked the door.”

Her face falls. “What?”

“Monty has it on tape, they locked you in.” Bellamy stabs angrily at a piece of potato. “I never should have let you go back alone,”

“It’s not your fault,” she insists. “I didn’t want to be the reason you and Octavia lost the show.” She shakes her head frustratedly. “But if she’s going to put people in danger like that, no one should be working with her.” 

“We’ll call Kane first thing tomorrow,” Bellamy promises. “Fill him in on all of their shit, see what we can do about it.”

“Ok,” Clarke agrees, cutting into her pancake. “I guess that’s a good start.” 

They eat in comfortable silence for a while, Bellamy keeping a close watch on her to check for any hints of residual paranormal foul play, but it seems Gaia’s commands were heeded. Clarke would be fine.

She piles the tray high with their discarded dishes and leaves it neatly in the hall by the door. “I should head back,” She says, picking absently at her cuticle. “Gaia’s probably worried by now.”

_ Fuck it _ , Bellamy thinks.

“Or you could stay,” he says, reaching for her hand. “I’ll text Gaia not to wait up.”

Clarke’s heart starts to pound. Sure, she’d been a little flirty when she skipped his gym shorts, but she was well covered by his long shirt. And sure, he was just being a good friend, making sure she was ok after something truly horrific happened. But he’d also barely let her out of his sight since he’d pulled her out of the lab. And she certainly isn’t in any sincere hurry to change that. But this is new, and scary in a way haunted houses never could be.

“You really want me to?” she asks, chewing her bottom lip.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind never letting you out of my sight again,” he says, words tumbling out before he can stop to consider their consequences. “I saw you curled up on the floor and the first thing that ran through my head  _ I never told her how I felt. _ ” 

Clarke’s eyes go wide. Sure her friends teased, but could he really…?

“I think I might be a little, well, no, I— _ shit  _ I’m not making any sense.” He runs his hand frantically through his hair.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me now,” she says earnestly. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” he says quickly.

“You think you’re in love with me?” she asks in disbelief.

“No,” he says and her face scrunches in confusion. 

“No!” he starts again, “I mean-” He strides towards her purposefully, kissing her with all he has left to give. 

“I’m definitely in love with you,” he says, resting his forehead on hers. “And I’ve never been more afraid than when I saw what happened to you. And I’ll probably never forgive myself for letting it happen, especially because I already knew I was in love with you.”

“You saved me,” she says seriously, running her hand across his cheek. “These things happen, they’re part of the job.”

“But I should have-”

“No,” she says firmly, placing her index finger on his lips to shush him. “This wasn’t your fault, and I won’t let you beat yourself up for something they did. Got it?” 

He can’t help but smile against her finger, reaching for her hand and kissing it as if she is a small child with a paper cut. “Still rather you stay with me tonight,” he says, but his tone is daring now, not afraid. 

“I think that can be arranged.” 

  
  



End file.
